Free The Hostage by Duncan Falconer Page A

seeing it now. His ears, and just about everyone else’s eyes, were glued to the speaker on the wall. It was all up to Stratton now.
     
    Aggy stood outside her wrecked car in the field listening to the transmissions. She and Ed were more or less forgotten about and unless they called up on the radio with a problem it would remain that way until this was all over. Ed was in the car smoking a roll-up. He was his old, calm self again and already spouting suggestions as to how and what the ops room should be doing. Then she heard the Gazelle and her thoughts left everyone else.
    She walked further out into the field, hoping to see it beyond the trees across the road. It sounded close. When the Gazelle did come into view it was further south along the wood than she expected, the direction and distance of the sound deceiving as always. It was about half a mile away, black against the sky and going like a rocket. She’d heard his voice over the radio and knew he was in it. Perhaps he would see her. It would pass across her front, maybe a bit closer than it was now. He would know where she was and that she was all right. Then she wondered who she thought she was kidding. He wouldn’t be thinking about her, let alone worrying if she was in one piece. It was too much to expect he might even glance in her direction. There was no way of knowing what was on that man’s mind no matter what the situation. Often she caught him looking at her but never once had she seen anything in his eyes that gave her encouragement. A hint of desire or even a thin smile would be nice, but there was never anything remotely like interest, it was just as if he happened to be staring in her direction.
    At that moment his only thoughts would be of what he loved most and did best. She wasn’t worried about him nor did she fear for him, not even slightly. Her feelings about him might well be confused but she was sure of one thing: there was hope for Spinks while he was up there. Stratton gave everyone that kind of feeling. When he was part of your team, on an op, when his calm, strong voice came over the radio, you knew you were on a winning team. She wondered if it was nothing more than simple hero worship she felt for him. She would follow him into hell itself if that were where they had to go. He was larger than life and there was no one else she had ever met who made her feel that way.
     
    Stratton stared unblinking at the direction indicator as the light went to the right, then flickered to the top, then to the left. He spewed instructions to the pilot, trying to keep the top button lit, which meant the signal was dead ahead. ‘Left a bit, left . . . straight. Don’t go any lower. Stay at five hundred. Left a little more. Straight.’
    He checked his map. A line drawn through their location and in their exact direction went above the border, but only just. That meant Spinks was still in the North. He glanced over his right shoulder at a field half a mile away. Near the edge, just beyond the skirt of the wood, was a car a few yards from the road, in a field. A figure was standing alone beside the car, looking up at the helicopter. He watched for a moment longer then went back to the transponder receiver.
     
    Brennan sat in the front of the van beside Sean at the wheel. They were out of the town, in the countryside. Two other men were in the back, sitting on the trunk, which was the only other object in the van. They were middle-aged, red-faced, weathered, as if they had spent their entire lives digging roads in the open air. The van pulled to a stop at a crossroads.
    ‘Straight over,’ said Brennan.
    ‘I know where I’m going,’ said Sean, aware he was playing with fire. Any backchat to Brennan was to take your soul in your hands. Sean wasn’t even sure why he had said anything other than it was his nature to be outspoken and arrogant. Perhaps the danger had got his blood up and he was feeling like a fight. Brennan wasn’t the only one capable